Drabble Prompts
by Carpe Nocturne
Summary: Collection of drabbles and stories I've written for prompts on tumblr. An AU in which Killian gets caught up in the curse owns the local coffee shop in Storybrooke and Emma sort of (but not really) hates his ridiculously attractive guts.
1. Chapter 1

Hello again! I've started taking prompts on my tumblr and this was the first one. I'll be posting all prompts I receive both here and on my tumblr. If you're interested in sending me a prompt, go to ask. Ask is open and anon is always on.

Prompt: Something makes Killian forget Emma after he thinks she leaves him for Neal (like Snow forgetting Charming) and he gets all dark and Emma gets to do the true love saving thing.

* * *

Hook starts to change soon after they stumble across Neal in the jungle.

It starts out small. He sits a little bit further from the center of the group, just a foot or two away when they settle down for the night. The flirtatious streak he's sported since the moment Emma met him becomes less prominent, slowly swallowed up by an intensity she hasn't seen in him since the day he shoved his hook into Rumpelstiltskin's chest.

His new eccentric behavior doesn't stop there. Soon, he begins to vacate his usual spot next to Emma when they go traipsing through the jungle to look for the latest location of Pan's hideout. He instead opts for the very back of the line and makes sure to keep at least two people between him and Emma at all times. She still feels his eyes on her though, two burning holes that land right between her shoulder blades. Sometimes she glances back just to see if she can catch him but he's always looking somewhere else. As disheartening as that is, it's downright terrifying when she turns around and he's gone.

Hook's disappearances become more frequent. Some nights, he leaves to scout the area and doesn't return until after breakfast and everything is packed away.

After a particularly rough day of exploration, he vanishes completely. He walks into the forest right after dinner and doesn't return the next morning. Emma still has hope that he'll come back and she bids the rest of the group to wait just another hour. Surely he wouldn't have left them ... right? But an hour turns into two, and then into three, and so on and so fourth, until it's almost noon (Or what she assumes is noon; time doesn't seem to abide by the traditional rules here.) and everyone in the group is trying to convince Emma that they have to go. Henry is counting on them, and Hook clearly doesn't want to help them any longer.

However strong Emma's desire may be to go on and look for Henry, there's a part of her deep, _deep _down that absolutely refuses to let her turn her back on Hook. So she takes a deep breath, turns to the others, grabs her sword (Or is it Neal's again?) and plows headlong into the forest, Neal yelling her name as she makes her way through the trees.

Luckily for her, in his haste to leave, Hook has left an almost indistinguishable trail in his wake, barely bent branches and trodden grass the only marks on the otherwise undisturbed foliage. Things so small that anyone less trained might have missed them entirely.

She feels like she's been walking for hours when a twig snaps somewhere off to her right and stops her dead in her tracks.

She stays absolutely still, not wanting to alert any manner of hungry beast that might be lurking in the forest growth around her to her presence. A shiver runs down her spine as she remembers the last time she had underestimated the potential threats fairytale lands tend to harbor.

There's a movement to left and then Hook is barreling through the underbrush and towards her at top speed, grabbing her around the neck, no comma and slamming her into the closest tree. The force of his attack knocks the air out of her lungs and puts spots in her eyes. It doesn't help that Hook has a tight grip around her throat. It's not quite bruising or life-threatening yet but it isn't exactly comfortable either. Her hands scramble to latch onto his right wrist and hold on for dear life. As her vision clears, she finally gets a good look at him.

He's paler than the last time she saw him and there are nicks and cuts marring his checks and the exposed skin of his chest. Besides the small marks, he seems perfectly fine. There are no potentially fatal wounds or spider black veins to indicate he'd been hit by one of the Lost Boys' dreamshade arrows. Emma lets out a sigh of relief.

It's his eyes that give her pause and send a drop of panic into her stomach.

There's a wildness in them that wasn't there before, an anger that sets the blue irises aflame.

He lifts the hook up to her face and traces it over her cheekbone and down her jaw to the pulse point in her neck, causing her to shift her eyes down to the menacing piece of metal. His grin is sinister. "Now, lass, care to tell me how you found your way onto this island? And why exactly you're following me?"

Whatever she was expecting to happen when she finally caught up to him, this is not it.

"Hook, this isn't funny," Emma croaks out. A grin that doesn't quite meet his eyes stretches across his face and he lets out a low chuckle, "Ah, ah, ah that's not quite the answer I was looking for, though it is nice to know that my reputation precedes me." The hook pushes a little deeper into her skin. She bites back a gasp and quickly realizes that it's time to for a different approach.

"My name is Emma Swan and I'm following you because you left me," she takes a breath, "and the rest of our group behind in the middle of the night."

"Sorry but I think you've got me confused with someone else, love. The group I travel with is my crew and last time I checked, they were on board my ship."

Despite the skepticism written all over his face, his grip slackens just a bit and the hook lowers back to his side. It's exactly the opening she needs. Her knee shoots up towards his groin. She's fast but it turns out, sadly, he's faster. His leg bends to block the shot and he pushes her further into the tree, the rough bark biting into the skin of her back. The few inches that had separated them before vanishes, until they are chest to chest and breathing the same air.

"Not a smart move, Swan," he snarls into her face. "I don't take kindly to strikes against my anatomy."

Emma's been in enough fights to know that she's quickly running out of viable options to break his hold.

It's maddening how close he is. No matter how hard she concentrates, she can barely form a coherent thought. They haven't been this close together since that kiss. His scent is intoxicating, leather and rum with a dash of cinnamon that makes her mouth water.

She looks over his shoulder and focuses on the trees across the clearing they've found themselves in. It's not much but it helps lift the spell he's cast over her. She has to focus; this isn't the good natured, flirty Jones that she's used to. This is Captain Hook, as dark and violent as the stories have painted him to be.

His hook moves to latch around her leg and brings it up until it's resting just against his hip. It's infuriating. She knows exactly why he's doing it and it's not just an attempt to seduce her. The new position takes away any chance she might have to use her other leg to trip him.

She realizes that he's made sure that if he goes down, she's damn sure going with him.

Scanning her brain for any last minute she might be able to use to get out of his grip, she comes up She only has one option and it's certainly not the best one.

Emma rears her head back as much as she can despite how tightly pinned she is to the tree and head butts him right between the eyes. He stumbles backwards from the force of the hit, the hand that had been around her neck now covering his face. As he backpedals, he takes her leg with him. It's just as she expected. As he's distracted, she reaches forward and grabs the hook, detaching it just the way he's showed her before.. Finally free, she uses the same maneuver he used on her at Lake Nostos and kicks his feet out from under him and down he goes.

Before he has a chance to recover, she's got the hook underneath his chin, pushing up until his head is tipped back and he's eye level with her. He looks down at the metal and then meets her eyes once again. He's clearly angry at their change in positions, but she also notices that there's also just a hint of admiration in his expression (She tries to ignore the warmth that spreads across her chest as she realizes that she's actually made him proud).

"Look, I don't know what's going on with you and frankly, I don't care. I'm tired and I've got a psychopathic teenager with a fetish for games threatening to brainwash my kid. I really don't have time for you to be having an identity crisis right now."

He smirks up at her like she's most interesting thing he's seen this century (Which, considering she doesn't know what he does and does not remember, might be true).

"Got any ideas on how to get your memory back, _mate_?" She leans down and pushes the hook further into his flesh. Not enough to break the skin, just to get the point across.

His hand comes up like a flash, wraps around the back of her head, and smashes her lips to his. She reacts quickly and as she usually does when she finds herself kissing him.

At first it's teeth and tongue and unadulterated passion. Their lips are laced with anger, their breath with desperation. Emma knows this isn't the best decision she's ever made but she can't stop herself. She's been burning with the desire to kiss him for almost a week and now that she's gotten her chance, she's not going to let it pass her by.

Surprisingly, despite how passionate it had started out, it quickly becomes slower. Where once was rage, there is now a gentleness that she hadn't expected. The fingers in her hair run smoothly against her scalp instead of pulling on the blonde strands. The pressure on her lips lessens and turns more exploratory, like he's trying to memorize everything about this moment that he can. She can even feel his lips turning up until he's grinning into the kiss with a smile she finds herself returning.

However the burning in her lungs won't be ignored for long and Emma reluctantly pulls back to inhale much needed oxygen. Both of them are breathing heavily and have the biggest grins stretched across their faces. There are twigs in his hair and smudges of dirt on his cheek but he's never looked as beautiful as he does in this moment.

He lets out a quiet laugh. "Not that I'm complaining or anything, love, but what was that for?"

"You wandered off into the forest and never came back, so I went looking for you. Except when I found you, you weren't exactly yourself," she explains and lifts herself up off him, dusting off bits of leaves and grime that had landed on her during the scuffle. She offers her hand to help him up, one that he gladly accepts. Once he's standing again, he extends the arm with the brace out to her so she can twist his hook back into its proper place. With a loud click, it's once more back where it belongs.

Hook takes a moment and looks down at their joined hands, "Ah, I see."

"You see what?"

His brows furrow for a moment and then he sighs, "Peter Pan isn't the only one who likes to play games in Neverland. The magic on this island has a tendency to take the thing you fear the most and use it against you. Its magic reaches inside of you and preys on your weaknesses, your doubts, all your insecurities until you're nothing but a shell of the person you were when you first stepped foot on its shores."

Still refusing to meet her eyes, he continues. "For you it was your abandonment and for me," he lets out a sigh, "for me it was losing you."

It takes a moment for her to realize what exactly it is that he's saying but then everything starts to fit together, bits of what seemed like inconsequential pieces of information coming together and forming the picture that hadn't been visible until now. "So when we found Neal again, you were, what? Worried that I'd get rid of you?"

He looks away and then towards their hands, too embarrassed to admit that the great Captain Hook, the man who faced down the Dark One and survived for three centuries, finally let Neverland get the best of him.

She surges upwards and kisses him again like there's no tomorrow (which to be honest, considering where they are and who they're up against, there might not be). He is still at first and then responds with the passion and when they pull away from each other, they are once again breathless.

Emma breaks through the haze first, "I don't know what's ahead of us. I don't even know what exactly we are. Hell, I don't even know if we're going to make it out of here alive but I do know one thing. I will never leave you behind. Okay?"

Hook quirks an eyebrow and smiles back at her. "Aye."


	2. Chapter 2

Here's the second prompt! I have one more prompt I have to fill after this so if you want me to update more, you need to send me some new prompts on tumblr. The link can be found on my profile. :) Hope you guys enjoy it!

Prompt #2: Emma explores Killian's scars. He is self-conscious and trying hard to hide it but she is determined to show him that she loves every part of him.

* * *

His skin is littered with them.

From the callouses on his palms (years of gripping the helm of the _Roger_) to the tiny nick on his left calf (where wooden shrapnel had embedded itself into his shin after a hefty blow to the ship from cannon fire), his body is a star map of ragged skin and scar tissue.

Some are expansive. A particularly nasty one stretches from his bellybutton in a sharp and smooth line all the way around his side and ends just short of the curve of his spine, clearly from a sword fight. There is another that runs in a jagged zigzag down the length of his bicep, smooth and pink against the bronze of his skin.

Others are almost nonexistent. The small line on the bridge of his nose that shows it's been broken at least once (she can't even imagine all the bar fights he's probably gotten into in his long life), or the tiny starburst that hides behind the curve of his ear (she always pays special attention that one). Inconsequential nicks and spots that traverse his body from his shoulder blades to the tops of his feet.

Killian hates them. Believes that they're reminders of a time he'd rather forget. _Liar, _she thinks but never voices, for she knows there must have been good with the bad, some laughter with the pain. He tries desperately to hide them from her, wearing long sleeve shirts even in the full blown heat of summer and pulling away whenever she runs her thumb over the ones that run across his knuckles. She can tell he's ashamed, but Emma refuses to give up.

He can't hide them forever after all and in the quiet of the night, she shows them how magnificent they are to her. She traces each one with her lips, connecting them with teeth and tongue, and fingertips until he's gripping the sheets and begging her_ not to stop, gods above don't ever stop. _She worships these marks of sacrifice that have made this man, for each is a symbol of a step on a long journey that has brought him to here to her.

And after some time, his sleeves get a little shorter and he doesn't pull away quite like he used to. Emma just smiles.


	3. Chapter 3

Here's Prompt #3! It's a silly one :3

Prompt: Emma finds Hook's old navy uniform in the back of his closet and has a serious problem with the pants. She lets him know.

* * *

"Killian, what is this?"

There's a brief second of surprise on his face but then it's gone and before she knows what's hit her, Killian is marching across the distance between them and reaching to snatch the offensive object out of her hands. He may be fast, but she's faster and she manages to pull it just out of his grasp and put it behind her back at the same time his hand closes around the space the object had been occupying previously.

They've been cleaning out the _Jolly Roger_ all day; sifting through centuries of piles of items he's collected through the years in an effort to get ready for his move into her apartment. From rare artifacts, that practically crumble as soon as you look at them, to bits and pieces of women's clothing that seem to obviously been left behind in the cabin (Killian at least has the decency to look somewhat ashamed when Emma stumbles across a particularly skimpy bra). However, it is this particular item found stowed away in the very back of his wardrobe that seems to bring out such a response in him.

Emma pulls it from behind her back, making sure to once again keep it just out of snatching range, and inspects it further. It's really not that much and she can't figure out why this would elicit such a passionate response from him. It's just a white cotton shirt, pants, and vest combo that go along with a dark blue blazer, golden epaulets shining on the shoulders. It's something that would've been normal in anyone else's (well anyone else from the Enchanted Forest, that is) closet but in Hook's almost exclusively black wardrobe, it sticks out like a sore thumb. Emma's brow furrows in confusion, "Wait… is this a navy uniform?"

She can tell by the look in his eyes and the way he lurches forward in an attempt to take it from her again that she's guessed correctly. Her hand shoots out to land on his chest to try to put some distance between them as a smile breaks out across her face, "Oh my God, it is! What in the world are you doing with this?"

Noticing that taking the item by sheer force isn't going to work, Killian changes his tactics. He quickly stops struggling and brings his hand up to wrap around the one she's placed on his chest. He lowers his voice until it's more like the seductive nonchalant lilt she's used to, "It's nothing. Must've been left behind by a prisoner or something. Just hand it over and we'll throw it away with the other stuff." It's a desperate attempt to distract her but it doesn't work. Not this time. She can tell by the blush climbing up his neck and spreading to his cheeks that this isn't just some random uniform.

"Oh no. No way, if this was just some random prisoners uniform, how did it end up in here and why would you have kept it?" She smirks and meets his imploring gaze head on.

They merely stare at each other for a while, laughing green meeting frustrated blue in a battle of pure stubbornness.

Killian is the first to break and he drops his head down to his chest with a frustrated sigh and mumbles something incoherently.

"I'm sorry but I didn't quite catch that. Care to repeat? A little louder this time."

Looking up at her from behind his bangs, he continues, "It's mine."

Emma can't help herself anymore and lets out the laugh that's been bubbling in her chest since she found the uniform. "You're telling me Killian Jones, Mr. Pirate Extraordinaire, was once a prim and proper officer-"

"Lieutenant, actually."

"-whatever, in the Navy? I have got to see this. Quick! Go put it on!" She shoves the clothing into his arms, turns him around and pushes him towards the ornate clothing screen in the far corner of the room so that he can have some kind of privacy.

"Oh love, come on really? That was a long time ago! It probably doesn't even fit me anymore! Let's just throw it out," he protests but still doesn't fight her and goes behind the screen nonetheless.

Emma just lets out another a small laugh and goes to stand in front of the screen. He grumbles about it the entire time he's changing, letting out a barrage of "bloody hell" and curses with each article of clothing he changes into. She can tell by the way the grey v-neck shirt and jeans she'd talked him into wearing this morning fly over the top of the screen that he is genuinely frustrated by this whole affair but she doesn't really care. It's not everyday that she gets to the fearsome Captain Hook flustered.

"Do I really have to do this, love?" She can see the shoulders of his silhouette move on the screen as he heaves out a great sigh.

"Yes. You really have to do this. Now come on out!" She yells back.

As soon as he comes to stand in front of the screen, all she can think of is Ralphie coming down the stairs in his pink bunny outfit in _A Christmas Story._ Hook has the same exact expression of shame on his face and Emma can't help but let out a little chuckle.

"Well, it's certainly not the worse thing I've ever seen," she comes up and slides her hands over his shoulders and up until they meet at the nape of his neck, fingers running through the ends of his hair. His arms immediately come to wrap around her waist and pull her closer, until they're chest-to-chest and nose-to-nose. There's still a small smile on her face, because honestly it's still kind of funny to imagine him as any thing other than the swashbuckling rogue she's fallen in love with.

Killian looks down at himself, then draws his eyes back up to hers and smiles, "I told you it was ridiculous."

Emma steps back just far enough that she can further inspect his outfit but doesn't have to worry about breaking their embrace. It's not that bad, certainly not as ornate or well made as his other outfits but that's to be expected. The pants are really the worst part about the whole ensemble, baggy in all the wrong places and practically hanging off his hips since it seems he's lost his baby fat since he wore them last.

Snuggling back into his embrace, she lets out a contented hum, "It's not ridiculous. The pants are really the worst part."

"So we can rid of them then?" he replies, leaning his head down to nuzzle her neck and leave a burning trail of kisses down her skin. She knows exactly what he's trying to do and damn him, it's working.

Rolling her head back to give him better access, she smirks. Two can play at this game. "Yes. In fact, I think we should get rid of them _right now._"

Before she can ever let out a surprised yelp, he's lifted her up so that he legs are wrapped around his waist and is marching backwards towards his bed.

Needless to say, it takes another day or two for them to finish cleaning out his ship.

* * *

Review? Or send me a new prompt? :D


	4. Chapter 4

No prompt this time, just my muse acting up. I've officially answered all the prompts that I received so right now the update schedule is dependent on when my muse decides its time to start writing until I receive any new prompts

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters.

* * *

She's only here for the hot chocolate.

And the bear claws.

That's it.

It's certainly not for him. It's not like she actually likes him. In fact, she can't stand him. Hasn't been able to since that first day she walked in and came face to with an innuendo laced smile and eyes as blue as the ocean. She had left that day, her hand clenched tightly around the insulated to-go cup and a growing fluttering in her stomach as his laugh echoed behind her, swearing up and down that she wouldn't return.

Yet here she was.

It's just that going to the diner all the time gets old after a while and he does such a fantastic job at putting in the right amount of cinnamon in the hot chocolate and making sure that it's just the right temperature. Honestly, if she believed in the magic that Henry swore was in this town, this place would be the first place she would start looking for it because it unnatural how perfect the hot chocolate and pastries are here.

"Love, keep making sounds like that and it'll be considered public indecency."

She looks up from her drink and rolls her eyes. There he is, in all his (ridiculously attractive) roguish glory casually leaning against the counter like he doesn't have a care in the world, "Don't you have some coffee to make?"

That infuriating smirk plays across his lips, "Actually, as you can tell," he pauses to gesture around the practically empty coffee shop, "it's rather slow right now. Nothing that Mr. Smee can't handle, for a few minutes at least. I'm all yours, and all that implies." He even has the audacity to wink.

Emma narrows her eyes, "In your dreams, Jones." Yet those butterflies are acting up again, wings beating rapidly in the pit of her stomach.

He leans over the counter, until he's almost unbearably close and she can smell just a hint of his cologne, "Oh, _Sheriff_, you have no idea." His gaze drifts down to her lips and it takes everything she has not to lean forward and kiss him, to finally give in. She's just about to make her move when-

"Emma! I've been looking for you everywhere! Come on!" Henry yells from the doorway and it sends both of them reeling backwards. She can feel the heat of a blush spreading across her face and even Killian has the decency to look somewhat sheepish as Henry grabs her hand and starts tugging her towards the door.

They're almost out the door when she hears him call out, "See you next time Sheriff Swan."

Emma ducks her heads and smiles as she follows Henry outside and it has nothing to do with him. Absolutely nothing.

It's all about the bear claws and hot chocolate.


End file.
